Counting Stars
by exitlude
Summary: Tom Riddle is a strange and complex creature. To comprehend his behavior is quite difficult, but perhaps not as much as counting stars. TROC. ON HIATUS. Will update soon.


**Author's note:** This would be the first HP fanfic I've published on . Like my _Heroes_ fic (shameless plug #1), I'm doing this to test the waters, to see if anyone in the fandom likes my work. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated, so please leave a review! Also, this fic...well, it's pretty odd, much like its main character. If you squint hard enough, you might see some Luna-isms to her. That Riddle might've had a similarly loony girl in his year, is what I'd like to think. And lastly, this fic was partly inspired by David Almond's book, _Counting Stars_, which accumulated dust in my shelf for years until I finally picked it up and surprisingly enjoyed it. Lovely, touching book (shameless plug #2). I obviously took the title as well as the religious concept of counting stars. Anywho, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** JKR owns all except my OC.

**Prologue**

_Nine-hundred-and-ninety-eight…nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine…one thousand._

She had once heard that those who counted the stars past ninety-nine would be condemned to hell. Men were not made to name and number the stars, though she had counted them many, many times. She recalled the first evening she, with a quivering finger, pointed to the hundredth star—Sirius, the brightest of all. Her breath was bated, her pulse was quickened, awaiting for the earth to split open and consume her into its fiery depths. Although tonight, seven years after she sealed her fate with Lucifer, she was as cool and calm as the night breeze that swept the lofty trees.

Then there was a sudden hush. She could feel the devil's tongue licking her ear in satisfaction…or was that merely a blade of grass? A resounding hum filled the still quiet. It was an all too familiar scene, the flock of metal birds silhouetted against the studded sky. Their wings stirred the momentarily frozen forest. Tonight, she felt, they were angrier, their bellies roaring and ready to drop below the balls of fire within.

She let the dry autumn leaves blow around her like a whirlwind. They were approaching all too closer and then as suddenly as they had appeared, they faded into the darkness of the night. The metal birds were not for her, never for her. The metal birds were for the cities of cobblestone streets and dour towns of looming, iron-barred buildings, all of which would burn like a great bonfire and recede to ashes in the sunrise.

No evening gust returned, nor did the owls hoot as they returned from their usual hunt. The forest, too, was for fear of the metal birds. It was not the time to return to her count. One-thousand-and-one would have to wait another night. She arose, brushing off the bits of leaves and twigs entangled in her hair and clothes. It was exceptionally warm for September, she deduced as she crawled out of the thicket. Would that mean a great shower of rain in October?

The sprawling grounds were empty, the lake like burnished silver, reflecting the inky sky above. It was a moonless night. Artemis as well had reviled her for counting stars and put a great dark cape over the lady moon's light. And for the nights to come, she would slowly pull back the cape until the moon goddess was sure no one would calculate their way to Hades.

"Hello?"

The word echoed over the silent shadows. It came from near the stone steps of the grand castle overhead, its turrets and towers like peaks of a demonic king's crown of black onyx. The source of the low, yet somewhat quavering voice was holding an alighted wand and pointing it in her direction.

As if rehearsed for the thousandth time, she lazily stuck out her arms forward and wobbled, eyes half-closed. Aside from going to hell, counting stars also meant possible detention as it required slipping out in the dead of the night. Perhaps the wand-wielder would be too overcome with sleepiness to believe her sleepwalking act. After all, she was known for it.

"Oh, it's you." The voice muttered in annoyance.

She gasped theatrically, eyes shot wide open and twisted her head this way and that.

"Where am I?"

"You've been sleepwalking."

The voice belonged to a sandy-haired boy, big-nosed and with a badge of gleaming red and gold on his chest.

"Oh dear, not again!" She wailed.

The prefect said nothing but gestured for her to follow him back to the castle.

"You'll need to see Madame Posy about that sleepwalking problem." the prefect said as they entered the spacious entrance hall.

She nodded, pouting in sham dismay, and walked off to her common room with shoulders slightly slumped. Yes, that Gryffindor prefect was far too compassionate for letting her be. He had not even deducted house points!

"Lucinda Brennan, out so late again?"

Blonde Natasha Holland, her bronze and blue badge winking, smirked at Lucinda.

"As much as it aches me to take away points from my own house…ten points from Ravenclaw for roaming around past curfew," Natasha said with her usual air of command. "Which, by the way, was two-and-a-half hours ago."

Her Icelandic inheritance bestowed upon Natasha a glare so livid, it surpassed that of the Vikings Lucinda glimpsed in history books.

"It is Lucy, by the way." Lucinda—nay, Lucy—said, imitating the same haughty tone of the Ravenclaw prefect.

Natasha, although maintaining her Viking stare, did not say anything as she watched Lucy Brennan disappear into the girls' dormitories. Within her sleeping quarters, Lucy could still see the stars dancing before her eyes. They waltzed from sapphire blue to brightest white to buttercup gold to inferno red and then burst into a cacophony of sparks and flames. And then a void of blackness, nothing within nothing. It was the death of a star, one no longer man would count and would grant him a stairway to heaven.

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Terribly short, I know. Chapter 1 will be uploaded soon (hopefully). Review, please! :)


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